


The Children Given to Us

by LadyBrooke



Series: Nimloth in Valinor [14]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Background Relationships, Burials, Child Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:08:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23877454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: The shores of Valinor were dotted with the remains of Númenor, both its jewels and its children.
Series: Nimloth in Valinor [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/682082
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	The Children Given to Us

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a 100 words of female character whump thread on FFA.
> 
> Background canon relationships, also allusions to Fingon being in love with a Fëanorian or a mortal but not who.

"You should come back to the city," Fingon called down the path to where Nimloth stood as she had for the past few hours. "The ships did not contain any but the doomed."

"What of the island itself and Tar-Míriel? The children? What of those who were not able to get on the ships, but were nonetheless innocent?" Nimloth said, turning on her heel and looking at Fingon as though he was one she blamed for the downfall.

There were tears in her eyes, Fingon was startled to see. "The gift of Men-"

"Do not speak to me of the Gift of Men, as though you are forced to desperately cling to it like Finrod does in the hopes it will comfort him as he mourns dead friends," Nimloth snapped.

"It is the truth," Fingon said. Below them, waves continued to crash against the cliff.

Nimloth's eyes flashed. "Then go to your niece and tell her that her husband should have been given the same gift that my husband and grandson were given."

"Elros was Idril's descendant too." Fingon's shoes were soaked in mud and water now, as he walked past seaweed and shells cracked beneath his feet. "And you are not the only one-"

Nimloth looked up as he broke off. "No, they say your lover will be lost until the breaking of the world too, don't they? I suppose you can stay."

"I had hoped to convince you to come back. They saw you from the towers and were concerned." Fingon looked back at the city, where the lights were slowly starting to relight. He tried to tell himself it was a good thing.

Nimloth shook her head, wet hair slapping against her cheeks from the force of it. "They will have to remain concerned. I shall not return until I am finished."

"Finished?" Fingon said, voice rising in question as he stepped closer. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of metal.

"Aranrúth. Thingol's sword," Nimloth said. "Dior used it too, before he found one more suiting. It passed to Elwing and then Elros. It swept ashore an hour ago, with blood on its blade. I shall have it destroyed, I think. Elu shall not wish for its return."

Fingon glanced around sharply, looking for the answer to a question he would not ask. "It is not like either of you to shy away from a sword's purpose. You asked my uncle to bring your own blades back if he could, while his nephews' blood still stained them."

"I do not shy from the blood of a just battle," Nimloth answered, kneeling on the ground by a hole Fingon had just noticed. "But this is not the blood of such."

Dread hung in the air, settling around them like one of the storm clouds. Fingon forced himself to move forward. The ships had been the focus, but both he and Nimloth were aware of how doom captured even those unintended in its grasp.

It was not a hole, but the grave of a child, a cut through his body where a sword had clearly been.

"I suppose according to those in these lands, I should be grateful that Eru has seen fit to grace me with a child to bury, even if he is not either of my sons," Nimloth said. She reached a hand out, brushing a waterlogged lock of hair to the side and revealing a boyish grin with two missing front teeth.

"I can find you a smith to destroy the sword, if you are sure," Fingon offered after a moment staring at the child.

Nimloth nodded, still brushing the boy's hair from his face. "My uncle will not keep a sword that has killed a child, whether it was an accident in the waves or a deliberate choice to spare drowning."

Fingon took a breath, eyes sweeping over the beach and the waves. "Are there more?"

"At least a dozen, " she said. "I watched them come in, but I am unsure how to reach their bodies down the cliffs."

"I climbed these cliffs as a child and can show you the safest path," Fingon said. "We may have to wait for the waves to stop, but we shall bury them."

Nimloth nodded silently, staring at the boy as tears continued to fall from her eyes.

Beneath them, the waves continued to beat against the cliffs, tossing jewels against the rocks and bodies onto the beaches.


End file.
